Tuesday, August 30, 2016

We have finally reached the conclusion of Amanita Virosa's Hall of Infamy. Will Clara and Amelia ever escape the clutches of their aunt, uncle and cousin? The answer is near at hand.

Amelia awoke to the familiar figure of Betsy standing over her bed. As usual she rose with alacrity. Only once she had escaped the sheets' embrace did she begin to wonder what new torments lay in store that day.

"I've run a bath for you, miss. Your clothes are set out in the dressing-room."

Amelia was not certain, but it seemed as if the nursery-maid was being more respectful than usual. Perhaps the recent birching had taught the girl some regard for her betters, Amelia reasoned as she followed the buxom maid into the bathroom.

The bathroom was beyond the parlour and she had to cross this, naked as she was, to gain her bath. As she passed through the room, she glanced at the mantel clock. To her astonishment, she saw that it was almost nine o' clock. Amelia almost stumbled, amazed that she had been allowed such luxury.

The bath was wonderful. It was deep and hot and filled with rose-scented oils. As always, Amelia found the combination of sensuality and privacy irresistible. There had been no sign of Jamie in the parlour; with any luck he would be sleeping off last night's debauch. Amelia's fingers stroked her inner thighs, and then gently encircled her clitoris. The vision of the Reverend Dawes imposed itself, unbidden, in her mind. She saw him whipping her again, his grey eyes devoid of pity.

Her climax took her by surprise. A sudden explosion of sheer ecstasy ripped through her, forcing an involuntary cry of intense pleasure.

"Good God, Amelia, you sound like a scalded cat!"

The blood rushed to her face in shame, even as she froze in fear at the sound of Jamie's voice behind her. How could she have been so foolish as to let him catch her...doing THAT...once again?

"If you could possibly stop frigging yourself for a moment," he said with a chuckle, "I suggest that you get dressed. We are breakfasting with Lord Alex and Lady Alicia this morning."

To her great relief, he left then, saying no more about catching her in the act of masturbation. Why was it she always seemed to think about that man? Amelia wondered as she towelled herself dry. The Reverend Dawes terrified her and she hated his arrogance and air of superiority, yet terror seemed to have led to a kind of horrified fascination. It was awful, and she wished she could think of something else when she touched herself, but he seemed to have mesmerised her in some way.

However, she had more immediate causes for anxiety. Her bottom still felt blistered from her Aunt's paddle. What new torments had been devised to vex the two cousins? she wondered.

In the dressing-room, Betsy laced her into her little corset. The maid hauled tightly but, to Amelia's relief, did not lace her as viciously as she had the day before. Looking around anxiously, Amelia saw no sign of the dreaded back-board, either. What she did see filled her mind with questions.

Amelia blinked at the underwear for a moment. The drawers looked respectable and comfortable. Was she really to be free of the dreadful bloomers? She stepped into the drawers and Betsy tied the strings. Then the nursery-maid picked up the gown of emerald silk that had been laid out.

Amelia simply stared at the elegant garment for a second. Then, as she put it on and allowed Betsy to fasten it, she found she had to swallow a lump in her throat. Do not be so silly, she chided herself as she blinked away tears of pure relief. After all, proper adult attire was no more than her due.

Once dressed, she joined Jamie and Clara in the parlour. Amelia stared at Clara in surprise. Clara wore a gown, every bit as proper as her own, of pale yellow satin. The cousins looked at one another for a moment with wide eyes.

"Splendid, splendid. I must say that you both look very fetching," Jamie said jovially. "One would hardly recognise you, Amelia." The uncouth young man then gave her a leery wink.

For once, Amelia really did not care. As the little party made its way from the nursery to the breakfast room, Amelia's mind was full of desperate questions. Could this be the end of her long humiliation? Might she have seen the end of those awful clothes and Jamie's unbending rule? She tried not to allow her hopes to flourish, knowing this might be some cruel trick.

Yet, when they arrived at the breakfast room, they were treated in the way she had expected on that first dreadful day. Lady Alicia greeted them fondly and urged the girls to take kidneys and mushrooms from the dishes laid out on the sideboard. Lord Alex greeted them affably from behind his paper, as if their appearance were the most normal thing in the world, and the months of humiliation in the nursery no more than a bad dream.

Amelia did not dare to ask, so she sipped her tea and breakfasted warily on toast and some fine sausages, awaiting some explanation of the sudden change. Lady Alicia said nothing until all had eaten their fill, then she clapped her hands together for attention, and even Lord Alex put his newspaper down.

"Now, my dears, we have an important announcement and splendid news! Jamie has proposed to Clara, and been accepted!"

Lord Alex gave a grunt of approbation, Clara blushed and even Jamie coloured a little. Amelia stared at her cousin with indignant outrage. The damned little slut! How could she? After all the outrages that cocky young swine had perpetrated...

"I know this summer has been hard on you two girls. You have had a taste of life on the receiving end, the better to fit you for your rightful place. I know that nursery discipline has been vexatious to you - especially to you, Amelia, for you have such a fiery spirit. But you will be glad to know that it is over."

Any resentment Amelia felt at what she saw as Clara's betrayal vanished at this marvellous news. It was over, it was finally over, she thought, exultantly. Relief that she would no longer be subject to Jamie's tutelage vied with eagerness to pay off a few scores. Betsy would be bending, bare for her rod, to name but one, just as soon as ever she got the chance!

"The wedding will be in April," Lady Alicia continued, smiling broadly. "Clara will stay with us, in new and far more salubrious surroundings, until the big day." The dark beauty turned her near-black eyes on Amelia. "And you, my dear, would, I suspect, like to get away from Hope Hall."

There was a lot of truth in that. Amelia had accounts to pay, it was true, but it was hard to forget that most of Hatherby - and especially the serving classes at the hall - had seen her naked, humiliated, and in bondage. It might be better, for a time at least, to rebuild her future somewhere new.

"A change," she said cautiously," might be...appropriate."

"Splendid," Lady Alicia clapped her hands together in delight. "Then it is settled. You see, Amelia, we have some marvellous news for you. One of the girls on the Reverend Dawes's little course has had to cancel, and guess what?"

Amelia did not need to guess. Her stomach had turned into a violently churning fist. She appeared to have lost the power of speech altogether. There was a thunderous pounding in her temples, as if all the huntsmen of Hades were galloping her down.

"That means there is a place for you."

"You see, m'dear," Lord Alex put in with a mischievous grin," we really don't feel you have learned as much as you should have done. Still too arrogant by half!"

"Yes, I'm afraid my best efforts have failed," Jamie shook his head regretfully, " we all believe you still need taking down a peg or three!"

"And if I know Richard Dawes," Lady Alicia said with a steely smile, "he is just the man to do it. Six months of really rigorous discipline at the Rectory ought to do the trick!"

Amelia felt the world spin around her. She stared in turn at the faces around the table. Lady Alicia smiled steadily at her. Lord Alex had returned to his newspaper and Jamie and Clara were staring dumbly into each others eyes.

Amelia opened her mouth to protest, but no words would come. Six months, under that man's rule! The prospect made her dizzy with fright. When she finally managed to speak it was a desperate, terrified question. "B-but...whe...when? H-How soon?" she stuttered at last and, just as she got the words out, Lucy bustled into the room.

Lady Alicia looked at the maid enquringly.

"The Reverend Dawes's coach, ma'am. It's arrived for Miss Amelia."

The world increased its speed as it went round and round in front of Amelia's eyes, and she fainted dead away.

THE END

...or is it? Well in fact no it isn't, as there is a sequel called Rectory of Correction. I haven't read it all, but if you are curious, you can read a free sample here.

Monday, August 29, 2016

Our question this week was what spanker/spankee combination non-spankos would be most and least comfortable with:

Male spanker and female spankee

Female spanker and male spankee

Female spanker and female spankee

Male spanker and male spankee

Bogey: I have no idea how your readers will answer. But, I feel strongly that
how ever they answer it may not be the same answer as would be given by
non-spankers.

Sir Wendel: I would guess that a non spanker would be more comfortable with female /
female spanking. No one gives a second thought to 2 women dancing
together at a party so why would spanking be any different. I’ll go with
Male / Male spanking for the one they can’t get a grip on.

kdpierre: I think the purpose is more important than gender combination. So what
types of spankings are you thinking of? Sex-play/role-play? Dares
between friends? Discipline of adults? I really think these distinctions
are more likely to determine an outsider's level of acceptance.

That would be a good topic for another brunch. Thanks for the suggestion!

Downunder Don: If an "outsider" had any thoughts at all I think the majority would be
more comfortable with any of 1, 2, or 3. But as with most things I think
that no. 4 would be most challenging. Once they were on the "inside" I
believe they think more like kdpierre's combinations.

Wilma: I would imagine it would depend on the gender of the reader. I think a
great deal of straight men might not have issue with M/F or F/F and
perhaps even M/M if they are open to men other than themselves having
relationships with the same sex. I have been a member of various
forums, and the F/M relationship does appear to be the less 'understood'
of the combinations, so that is what I am basing my hypothetical
opinion on.

Anon: The male-dominant attitude in our society (US) suggests that #1 would be
the major interest. I don't think most guys would even admit to
themselves that they could have an interest beyond that.

As for
me, I am in the F/M relationship and love it. There is nothing like the
anticipation, the pain, the warm/sore reminder, maybe a hurtful bruise
afterwards. I wish I had come to grips with my inner needs/desires a
couple of decades sooner than I did.

I invite our still
non-physical friends - M or F - to bend over, go over lover's lap, or
lay over some pillows and submit to what you have fantasized about.
What's the worst that can happen? It'll just hurt for a minute, and then
you will know if you want it again.

I bet you will.

Roz: I think a non-spanko would better understand 1 and 3, and that 4 would be
the combination most difficult to come to grips with. Great question!

Bonnie: Maybe I missed the point, but I think a true non-spanko wouldn't
understand or be comfortable with any of these choices. If they did, we
couldn't call them a non-spanko. Right?

Right. Maybe instead of "most comfortable with" I should have said "least offended by".

Dr. Ken: I think that non-spankos would trend toward the traditional, so if they
were to feel comfortable with any of these, they'd probably be most
understanding of M/F, a male led, male oriented relationship. And I
think they'd be equally uncomfortable with all of the other options,
probably most uncomfortable with M/M.

Leigh: I have no idea because there are different strokes for different folks. I know for me, it's strictly traditional m/f.

Baxter: My wife and I are in the F/M and that suits me, although sometimes I get
to spank her. But any of the arrangements work because IMHO being a
spanko is not so much about sexual orientation, but the need/want to be
spanked and wanting the significant other to do the spanking.

Jenn: Most people are more comfortable with a female spankee, so 1 and 3 are
acceptable to many non-spankos. Either as a reflection of parental
discipline (1 or 3) or as traditional male dominance and female
submission (1). Grown men being spanked is unfamiliar to most, except as
parental discipline (2 and 4) or school-type discipline (2 or 4). I'd
say #4 make me most uncomfortable. It just seems so foreign and harsh.

Ronnie: If you are a true non-spanker would you be comfortable with any of them?

If you are a non-spanker but curious or wanting to talk to your partner about it - I would think 1, 2 or 3.

Hermione: I think that non-spankos would be most familiar, although not necessarily comfortable, with #2. Over the years, news stories regularly pop up about prominent men found to be using the services of female dommes. Our own Terry-Jean Bedford, the dominatrix who fights for prostitutes' rights, comes to mind. I suspect they would be most uncomfortable with #4.

There was a good variety of opinions on this one, and that's what makes a good discussion. Thank you all for participating!

Sunday, August 28, 2016

If you are reading this blog, you are almost 100% guaranteed to be interested in spanking for one reason or another. You might actively engage in it, or have just started to explore, or maybe you're just curious. But there are many people out there who don't share our fascination with this percussive sport.

There are four possible combinations of spankers and spankees:

Male spanker and female spankee

Female spanker and male spankee

Female spanker and female spankee

Male spanker and male spankee

Which combination do you think non-spankos are most comfortable with, or most understanding of? Which one can they simply not get their heads around, or are least comfortable with?

Leave your reply as a comment, and remember, all opinions are welcome here. Please feel free to interpret the question as you wish. If you prefer to state your own preference instead, that's fine. I will publish a summary of our discussion once everyone has had a chance to speak.

Saturday, August 27, 2016

lurvspanking: Diving for the Golden Snitch, the Quidditch pair were soon spanked by the competing pair of Beaters swooping from behind.

kdpierre:
Dateline: Brazil August, 2016. Sports fans had mixed reactions to the
introduction of a new Olympic event, "Synchronized Mooning," yesterday
as demonstrated by the Buttovski sisters, Derriere and Boom-boom...

Baxter:
one on the left: You gotta learn to stick your butt out more when doing
this maneuver, just like I tell you when I spank your bottom. Boy are
you going to get it when we get home.one on the right: yeah yeah, ok, I will stick my butt out more, but you need to learn how to spank me better. one one the left: deal

Michael M:
Diver 1. Why do our swimsuits have to disappear at the back and the boys' don't?Diver 2. How else are we going to get this sport on the TV?

Simon: We've trained for 10 years, making a lot of physical and financial
sacrifices, honing our bodies and abilities to the peak and what do we
get? A bunch of weirdos making comments about our bums on the Internet!
Mind you at least they are admiring them.

Ronnie: Sarah was happy knowing her bum looked better than Jane's when they did this dive.

Hermione: Synchronized spanking is a new event to be added to the 2020 Olympics.

Friday, August 26, 2016

Depending on where you live in this world, your gardening season is either winding down or gearing up. In either case, you might want to consider purchasing one or more of these attractive garden statues. Each one is endowed with a beautiful booty, and all are available from Toscano.

Thursday, August 25, 2016

The 2016 Olympics are over, but this image of a pair of Canadian synchronized divers stuck in my mind. As soon as I saw it I thought what a good pose for a pair of spankings, except for the fact that they were about 10 metres in the air! What do you think?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment and I will post your scored on Saturday (subject to drug testing, as always).

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

After reading the last round of memes, kdpierre was inspired to create his own. Here is my version.

“25 things you never needed to know about me, that now you do.”

1.About how old were you when you first knew you were kinky?
I was four years old.

2.Will you eat something if it falls on the floor?
Absolutely. Waste not, want not.

3.Have you ever kept a personal memento of a lover like their hair or nail clippings or other?
Yes, I saved a hair from the boy who sat in front of me in high school after the hair landed on my desk.

4.If you could affordably and safely keep any unusual animal as a pet, what would you choose?
I'd like a dik dik, because what's not to like about dik (diks)?

5.If you could tell someone from your past about your lifestyle, who would it be?
Probably my ex, to let him know I'm still crazy after all these years.

6.Who was the absolute worst person you’ve ever known?
I can think of a couple of bad-tempered primary school teachers who hated me, and the feeling was mutual.

7.If you could enact a law, what would it be and what would the penalty be for breaking it?
Pass.

8.If the only way you could continue to live a kinky lifestyle was to switch to the role opposite of the one you are currently in, would you or could you do it?
I don't know about the long term, but I'd give it a shot.

9.If you could be part of a TV family would you choose the Partridge family, the Addams family, or the Waltons?
I'd probably fit in best with the Addams family.

10.Has anyone besides you or your S.O. ever seen your or your S.O.’s butt when it was still red from a spanking, and if so, who was it?
Several adults, when I was little and got spanked.

11.If you had to dispatch a zombie, other than a gun, what would be your implement of choice?
An accordion playing polka music all by itself.

12.Would you rather fool around with a vampire, alien, or mer-maid/man?
A vampire if he's from the Twilight series.

13.Have you ever professed your religious tolerance by saying, “I don’t care what you believe as long as you believe in something.”? Can't say that I have, since my husband is an Atheist.

15. What is your fondest memory involving a nipple?
A scavenger hunt when I was in Girl Guides, and one of the objects was a baby bottle.

16.Confess the most prejudiced or un-PC thing you actually believe to be true.
I'm afraid that would offend some of my readers, so pass.

17.What’s the most desperate thing you’ve ever used to wipe your butt?
Grass.

18.When you finally die, how would you like to go out? And conversely, what is the worst way to die?
In my sleep. The worst would be falling off a cliff or drowning.

19.What was the strangest way you ever achieved an orgasm?
Riding a motorcycle.

20.If you could get away with it, who would you most like to bludgeon to death?
I can think of a couple of bad-tempered primary school teachers who hated me, and the feeling was mutual.

21.Can you eat with chopsticks?
Yes, but slowly.

22. What sexual experiment of yours ended the most disastrously?
Trying to get my ex to spank me.

23.If you suddenly went all 1950’s Sci-Fi, would you rather begin to grow or shrink, and how would you work that into your sex life?
Shrink, so I could go where no man has gone before.

24.Which sounds most like ‘you’: A kaleidoscope: a. works on principles of physics and optics, b. is a toy you’ll never see these darned modern day kids enjoying, c. is a rainbow in a blender, or d. reminds me of my last acid trip?
A. then B.

25.And finally, just what is the largest thing you’ve ever had up your ass?
An exceptionally large and painful poop.

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

We are now nearing the end of summer at Hope Hall for the two cousins. The residents of the estate, along with most of the neighbouring village, are assembled to enjoy a communal picnic. Inevitably, Amelia displeases her aunt and must pay the consequences. There suddenly seems to be a crowd of observers, and from their interaction, it becomes obvious that Amelia is generally disliked.

Amelia's mouth went dry as she saw her aunt produce the evil little paddle, and slap it into the palm of her hand with a sickening crack.

"Jamie, be a dear, and peel those bloomers off her bottom, if you don't mind?"

For a moment, Amelia very nearly bolted. It was insane. Pinioned in her back-board bondage, where was there to go? What on earth could she do? It was not the fear of the nasty thing in Lady Alicia's hand, though that fear was real enough. It was the shame. Amelia heard a score of conversations trail away and knew with sickening certainty that the eyes of half of Hatherby were now firmly fixed on her rear.

Somehow she managed not to bolt. The thought of whooping stable-boys chasing her across the lawns helped to keep her in her place. She closed her eyes and bit her lip as Jamie took a firm grip of the waist of her pantaloons and began to tug.

"The trollop is not looking so haughty today, eh?"

"I do hope her Ladyship fairly skins that bottom for the stuck-up little bitch!"

"All right now, darling," Lady Alicia's rich tones cut through the general raillery. "Come and put yourself over my knee."

Amelia went almost eagerly. Eager, she was at least, to get the ordeal over with and to regain some shred of modesty.

Her aunt helped her, as she could not use her arms for balance, to lower herself over the Marchioness's silk-skirted lap. The smock rode up in the process and she was horribly aware that her bottom was now naked for the amusement of the picnickers. Had she not been so aware, the comments would soon have enlightened her.

"By God, what a lovely arse!"

"Sweet as a peach. That bum would be a tender treat for any man!"

Amelia felt a hand gently stroke her naked buttocks.

"Mais oui, her skin is still as smooth as a baby's!"

Amelia endured Mademoiselle Isobel's fondling, and tried to close her ears to the comments of the crowd. Despite the depth of her humiliation, her clitoris still throbbed urgently. She shifted on her aunt's lap, seeking to press her tingling nub against something more substantial than skirt silk, but to no avail.

"Your bottom will be the toast of Hatherby tonight, Amelia," Aunt Alicia said fondly.

Amelia hung her head in utter shame.

The first stroke of the paddle put her humiliation in sudden and very sharp perspective. It felt as if her skin had been set on fire.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Lady Alicia brought the paddle down in quick succession. Amelia was engulfed in an atrocious wave of pain.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Amelia had witnessed the effects on Clara and had known that the little paddle with the drill-holes would be bad. Part of her, though, had decided that her cousin was feeble to have cried so bitterly and wriggled so much under its strokes.

Now she knew better.

The pain was extraordinary. Like the birch, it scalded the surface of her tender skin without dulling the nerves.

"Ow! Ooooh! Owwwwww!" she yelped and groaned and gasped as the strokes rained down on her unprotected rear.

"Stop that silly kicking, Amelia, or you will get even more strokes."

By the end, Amelia was half-delirious from the pain. Consciousness came back slowly, in fragments of awareness that there was something else in the world, apart from excruciating pain.

"Good show, your Ladyship. She felt that, I'll warrant!"

"By God, that bum looks like a skinned tomato."

Amelia blew and gasped and sucked in much needed air. The paddling had stopped, she realised slowly. The pain must be subsiding, though that was difficult to comprehend, for her poor bottom and thighs were still in a state of scorching agony.

"There now."

A pat, or was it a smack? Her bottom was now so tender it was impossible to tell; it made her squeal helplessly again.

"Tsk, tsk, Amelia. No need to make such a fuss. Get down and stop snivelling, girl."

Whimpering pitifully, Amelia was made to stand between her aunt and Jamie. The position placed her excruciatingly tender bottom easily within the reach of both her tormentors. She gasped as Jamie grasped her right buttock and squeezed.

"Good Lord, Amelia," he grinned, "it feels as if you have been sitting on a hot stove!"

Amelia could not prevent the tears from coursing down her cheeks. Worse, she could feel more moisture trickling down her inner thighs from her naked quim. The slight breeze made the fluid feel cold, and horribly obvious, on her skin.

Despite the pain, Amelia feels the tingle of pleasure we all know so well. Next week will be the final installment of Hall of Infamy. What will be the cousins' fate? Stay tuned!

Monday, August 22, 2016

This week our topic was Domestic Discipline, and those of you who aren't away on holiday, tending their gardens or watching the Olympics had these thoughts to share.

Dan: Hi Hermione. We are in a domestic discipline relationship, of the F/m
variety. We have been doing it for over 10 years, and it works well for
us. We don't do erotic spankings at all. Ours are all for
disciplinary purposes. We feel like it empowers her and gives he a way
to voice her displeasure with bad husband behavior in a very concrete
way. For me, it satisfies a need for boundaries and to subject to some
rules apart from my own. I think of it is as part of a quest for
balance. I have a fairly domineering personality, and DD gives her a
means of putting me in my place when I need it. It also helps her
develop her own sense of power and leadership. So, while not for
everyone, it works for us.

Wilma: I could write a very similar post to Dan but with reverse roles. We
started out with Dd 4 years ago, give or take. As time has gone on we
have ventured more into the D/s realm as well. Though I do now
understand that Dd is a form of D/s. We do occasionally 'play' if you
will in a BDSM form. This tends to be more of a reestablishing or
augmentation of our roles.

Would I recommend Dd? It works for us,
though the more D/s version works better ( seeing how I am such an
angel). I will add however that Dd doesn't always 'fix' things. In fact
there can be a whole lot of messiness associated with it at times. Any
problems that may have been present before Dd don't just magically
disappear with it. It takes a lot of time, energy, effort and
determination with both parties to maintain it. Coasting really isn't
an option. ( Of course one could argue it isn't an option in a vanilla
relationship either...it just seems to be more obvious in a Dd one for
some reason). The highs are very high, and sometimes the lows can be
very low,that is until a balance is achieved...then you grow and change
and start all over again! LOL.

Roz: We started with spanking for erotic fun and as part of D/s play then
decided we wanted to expand it from the bedroom and introduced Dd to our
relationship and continued to spank for play also. Dd is no longer part
of our dynamic, although there are moments that our roles re-surface.

Dd
brought many benefits such as a greater intimacy and communication and
some of those benefits remain. While it worked well for us, it isn't for
every couple.

Amy: Good Morning! We started out exploring and questioning if DD was for
us; both intrigued but the idea of the whole thing. We ended up with a
51% 49% relationship that includes spanking for erotic play, resetting
me when life get overwhelming and once in awhile, as punishment. In all
cases, our communication with each other has grown leaps and bounds. If
the interest is there, for both partners, explore it. Keep what works
and move away from what doesn't.

Hermione: We do not have a Dd relationship; ours is very much a D/s one. Spanking is done for erotic pleasure, not punishment. Ron has other ways of keeping me in line when my behaviour doesn't please him. Some couples thrive on a Dd dynamic, but it just isn't for us.

Thank you to all who responded. I would still like to hear from those of you who aren't in a Dd relationship. What's your opinion of it? It's not too late! Leave your reply as a comment here.

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Welcome back to another spanko brunch. In keeping with the spirit of the Rio Olympics I have selected a variety of Brazilian cheeses for you to enjoy. There's variety in our spanking activities too, and in our reasons for spanking. If you take a look at Bonnie's Kindred Spirits blogroll, you will see that a large number of blog titles are pink, the colour that identifies the blog as one devoted to Domestic Discipline. According to Wikipedia, "Domestic discipline most commonly refers to the practice of fully
consensual corporal discipline between two competent adult partners in a
relationship."

Do you and your partner have a Domestic Discipline relationship? If you do, how does it work for you? Would you recommend it to others? If you don't, is it something you would like to try? Do you have any objections to it?

Leave your reply as a comment, and once everyone has had a chance to weigh in, I will publish a summary of our discussion.

Saturday, August 20, 2016

Kingspan: Because despite all the great spanking fiction on the internet, all her friends want to talk about is Fifty Shades of Grey.

kdpierre: "Aw, don't be worried, honey. Those are tears of joy. Mommy just looked
at the calendar and realized how soon school will be starting."

Dr. Ken: Because Mommy was a naughty girl and got a spanking. Now stop asking questions or you'll get the same...

Ronnie: She was a naughty Mommy so I spanked her and sent her to bed.

Anon: Uhm, sweetie, I'm sorry you had to see Mommy crying, but it's because
.... Well, uhm, you know what happens to you when you've been a naughty
girl? That's right, you get a spanking ... and it hurts ... and it makes
you cry, but you know Mommy and I spank you because we love you very
much and we want you to learn to be a well-behaved young lady. Well,
when mommies are very naughty, daddies sometimes have to give them
spankings to help them learn things, too. So, because Mommy was very,
very naughty and got a ticket for speeding when she was driving you home
from school, which is very, very dangerous, I had to spank her with the
hairbrush, just like I do with you, and that made her cry. But don't
worry, Mommy said very sorry, and she's promised to be very good and to
drive safely from now on. So, she'll be just fine once she's had some
time in the corner to think about how she's going to keep her promise.

Hermione: "Erm...she stubbed her toe on this ping pong paddle that somebody left lying on the floor. Hey, how about a game?"

Now let's all go out for brunch. I know a great place, not too far from here. Stay tuned.

Wednesday, August 17, 2016

There's a wide variety of locally-grown fresh fruit in the grocery stores this week, thanks to the warm weather we've been having. I couldn't walk past the display of peaches without reaching for a container of them to take home and enjoy on my breakfast cereal. Maybe I'll make a peach cobbler too.

I love fresh peaches, but could it be their similarity to paddled bottoms that caught my eye?

We'll let Rachael tell us what Andy is up to this week. I do hope he's not in trouble again.

So by now we had kind of an arrangement. If Andy pulled some crazy stunt he got it. If I got all moody and grumpy because of something I did, it was me in trouble. Our code was “Someone’s going to the woodshed,” or “someone needs to go to the woodshed.” It wasn’t often, but it happened and when it did the misbehaving party acknowledged their fault and took the licking. I think we discovered limits that worked for us— medium hard, enough to generate a good hot sting, and enough to make it hurt so intensely that you really wanted it to stop. The bottom should be uniformly red and sitting should be a reminder for a day or so of what had led to the misbehavior. Making up afterwards continued to be a fine way to put it behind us.

Once, even my girlfriends and Andy’s pals got involved. Of course they didn’t know about Andy and me-- and I wasn’t going to tell them. It was just one of those things that fate and coincidence throws your way.

As I mentioned one of the things that drives me nuts is the way Andy can throw money away on impulsive sports bets. That day the boys were off playing golf and we girls were fixing food for a get together that we were having that night. It was a Sunday and there was some big golf tournament on TV so the boys were going to play, and Helen who is Rob’s wife, was going to record it on the DVR so the boys could see the end of it later. They were all talking about avoiding the clubhouse so they would not know who won thus preserving the excitement for when they got home.

So Helen put it on TV and we went about doing our things. I must have wandered into the den at a critical point because there on TV was Tiger Woods and the announcers were going on and on about how he hadn’t missed a putt inside six feet all week or something. So they were all shocked when he hit this really short putt that missed and the crowd groaned and the announcers went on babbling about how impossible it was that he could have missed from point blank range.

Helen was watching too and she said, “Now see? That’s something those boys would have bet on—a two foot putt. I can hear them now.” And all of a sudden I had an idea. I asked Helen, “How would you like to teach them a lesson?” And she said, “How?” I asked her if she had her old sorority paddle—she’d been a Gamma Rho, same as me. She just pointed to the den wall. There it was, hanging right there.

I said, “Ok, lets get Marci and Clare in here. Here’s what we’ll do…”

Soon we heard the gang return. Wives were dutifully kissed, cold beers popped open and the boys plopped on the couch and hit the DVR. “Now don’t any of you tell us what happened, even if you heard,” said Rob, hollering in Helen’s direction.

Helen said, “Honey, nobody has touched that TV since you set it up to record. We haven’t even had it on. We’ve been cooking and yakking, and besides whatever would we care about some stupid golf game?”

Gary and Rob shook their heads, “The US Open---and to them it’s just ‘some stupid golf game’. Women….but hey you gotta love ‘em.”

Now we were in the kitchen and you can see the den from there so every now and then we’d peek in. Sure enough they came to the part I’d seen.

The announcer intoned, “Tiger has this---straight uphill about two feet for a birdie to take the lead.”

“No way he’ll miss this,” said Phil.

“It’s a gimme,” said Andy.

From the doorway Helen said, “He’ll probably miss. It’s a stupid game.” The men all turned in unison at this outrageous comment. “Are you crazy? He can’t miss from this range. I’ll bet you dinner out he makes it,” said Rob.

“And if you win?” asked Helen. “I play golf next Saturday—no honey do list,” said Rob.

“Wait, wait,” I said. “Hit the pause button.” Someone did. Tiger was crouched, placing his ball. “If you really want a bet, how about putting your asses on the line, boys?”

Rob asked what I meant. I pointed to Helen’s wall and the paddle hanging there. “If you win, ok. Free day next week. Play golf all day if you want. No complaints, no list. But if you lose, well…each of you agrees to bend over and take six swats with that---right on the seat.” I said patting my rump for emphasis. Marci added, “Oh, and in your undies. Pants down. We don’t want too much protection to hit through back there.” The girls all nodded in agreement and giggled at that one. That would be a sight, the boys in their briefs, bending over. Priceless, as they say on TV.

On cue, we girls agreed enthusiastically. The boys looked at each other, speechless. Rob broke the ice. “Well, hell yeah.” He threw up his arms. “Guys, guys---this one’s a no brainer. It’s a sure thing. We’re playing next weekend.”

We girls all laughed. “So now that you have something to really lose, you’re chicken, hunh?” This from Marci.

“C’mon boys, all you have to lose is your pants. I can’t believe this,” said Gary’s wife, Clare. “They bet $20 on a first down play or a pitch, but when it’s just a little possible embarrassment they chicken out.”

Gary huffed, “I’m in. I want to play next week, and no chores. He’s not going to miss. No way.”

Andy eyed me suspiciously. Did he smell a rat? I could see his mind working. We’d had these talks about stupid sports betting. Now the sorority paddle was in play, and in view of our recent activities, well, he had to suspect something.

But he waved his hand nonchalantly and said, “Ok, let’s do it. Hit theremote.”

The screen flickered to life. The color commentator said, “Tiger lines it up. He hasn’t missed from this distance the whole tournament. Looks straight uphill.” He stroked the putt, typical Tiger smoothness. It flirted with the edge of the cup and spun out. A collective groan went up from the gallery.

“Looks like your guy struck out or whatever, boys,” said Marci. “I guess you shouldn’t bet on things you don’t control,” added Helen. She went over to the wall, unhooked the paddle and swished it a time or two.

“Hmmm…..good weight. Just like I remember it.”

The men watched her nervously, then looked at each other, like they were thinking ‘are we really going to do this?’ Helen gave the paddle to Clare who swung it a time or two. Then Marci said, “Ok, boys, time to pay up. Are you ready? Where do we want them, Helen?”

Helen thought for a minute. “Let’s take them one at a time. Here, over the back of the couch.” Helen had a couch in her den that sat in the middle of the room facing the TV. It was padded. If you bent over the back it would put your butt in perfect position to take paddle swats. The guys were milling around not knowing what to do. This was all happening too fast for them.

Helen said, “I’ll go first. Rob, get your little fanny over here. Right here.” She slapped the paddle onto the back of the couch.

Rob put up his hands in protest. “Now wait a minute, honey. We don’t mind working next weekend…maybe two weekends. How about that?” He turned to his buddies. “What about that guys?

We’ll give the girls two weekends in a row, and, ah…we’ll throw in a dinner out.” They all nodded, yeah, great idea.

Helen’s eyes narrowed. She tapped her foot. “Rob Barton, are trying to welch on a bet?”

“Well, gee, no, honey but wouldn’t you rather have…”

“I’ll tell you what I’d rather have, and that is your sweet buns up over this couch. Let’s go, Rob. Drop those shorts.”

Rob sighed, resigned to his fate. He’d probably seen this kind of resolve from Helen before. He took a position at the back of the couch and loosened his shorts and let them fall. He was wearing fruit-of-the-looms. Not much protection. Helen came right along side and stood to his left. She tapped his bottom with the paddle.

“Six swats. That was the bet. Don’t get up ‘til we’re done Rob.”

She reared back and brought the paddle down with a loud crack! I think everyone winced and Rob yelled out a big “Yeow! That hurt.” Before he could move Helen landed swat number two. “My God, Helen, not so hard!”

Number five got a wail of protest and at six he shot bolt upright and rubbed his bottom frantically while doing a little dance that we girls found quite amusing. The rest of the paddlings followed suit.

Clare took the paddle from Helen and tapped it on her leg. “All right, Gary, dear. Pants down and bend over, please.” Gary mumbled in protest but let his shorts fall to his ankles thus exposing his preference for white y-briefs.

“Tighty whitey’s. Very fashionable Gary,” laughed Marci. The rest of us girls had to chuckle at that.

Gary howled through his paddling as Clare seemed to really put the wood to him. She lined her swats up like a tennis pro and chided him repeatedly to stay still while she cracked the paddle across the seat of his briefs.

We could see how red his behind got right through the thin cotton. He shifted from side to side stamping his feet and verbalized his discomfort with a more or less steady ‘ooo….oooh!’ sound.

When Marci was handed the paddle she had a wide grin on her face, and I got the notion that this might be payback for more than just the bet. Phil tried to talk Marci out of it, but she told him he better take his licks like the rest, and he yelped through six hard swats right on his sit spot.

Andy was last. By now of course, he was no stranger to the shock of getting his hiney tanned, but the larger heavier wooden paddle was, I think, an eye opener. He complained and howled as loud as the others had while I delivered six hard smacks. He did a little dance too when it was over.

It was a rueful group, standing around liked spanked schoolboys gingerly rubbing their seats, as we wives scolded them about making stupid sports bets.

“I hope that cures them,” said Helen as we sat down to eat the barbeque. The boys ate standing up, grousing the whole time.”

* * *

Andy didn’t say much in the car going home. It made me a little nervous.

“Penny for your thoughts, dear?”

“Well, I guess you girls taught us a lesson tonight. I’ve got to tell you, Rachael, that paddle was a real scorcher.”

“Well,” I said, “You didn’t get it any worse than anyone else, and that’s what you get for that dumb bet.”

“You know,” Andy mused, “Anybody at all knowledgeable would have taken that bet. In fact anybody betting the other way would have to either have been given stupendous odds, or… would have had to know the outcome in advance.”

He turned and looked straight at me. “You didn’t know the outcome in advance, did you Rachael?”

Now, I’ve never been able to lie to Andy. So I gulped and stammered and ran my hand through my hair, you know, all those little body language things that say you’re very nervous about that question. I decided that the best defense was a good offense. “I, we, figured we needed to teach you guys a lesson, that’s all. So what if we knew?” I blurted this out quickly, hoping he’d see the logic. See, the end justifies the means, right?

By that time we were pulling into the driveway. Andy went in and paid the babysitter. Once she left, I was about to head for the bedroom when I found my path blocked by Andy. He was holding the little novelty store paddle. Oops. I started to back up. “Now, Andy, we were just trying to make a point and…”

“Cheating. It’s called cheating. And cheating is very much frowned upon, Rachael. Come on down to the rec room now. We have to have one of those woodshed talks about this.”

Well it was only a two minute paddling. Andy timed it. He figured that was the equivalent of his six swats with the heavy sorority paddle (plus everyone elses’s). And, it was only the novelty store paddle. However, it was on my bare behind. And, I was naked.

And, I was put over Andy’s knee for it. And, it really, really stung. Andy got me where he wanted me, cocked up over his left knee, my hiney in the air and my legs fluttering behind me. Then he tapped me once or twice and let fly.

Sharp stinging spanks peppered my fanny, and all I could do was gasp and writhe around while he methodically tanned me for two solid minutes. But there is something about being naked and held down over your husband’s knee while he warms up your bottom.

After he let me up and I had finished hopping around in a suburban housewife’s version of a war dance Andy embraced me and dragged me into bed. His hands were all over me, his lips were all over me and I was swooning with desire. We didn’t get to sleep until much, much later.

So now, that’s the truth about Andy. He’s a big kid like I said, but also a real man. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Monday, August 15, 2016

Six of the best: Yes, I believe that being a 'spanko', one fantasizes 99% of the time on
that most beautiful part of the body called in various ways, 'bottom,
behind, rear end, etc'. And you wish to honor it, by spanking it.

lurvspanking: Spanking is most definitely not a fetish in the manner of the definition
and is not abnormal. I think not being interesting in spanking is more
of fetish since someone has to be fixated on not spanking a bottom. If
that makes any sense. :)

Downunder Don: Not in the strict sense of the definition. Most spankos do not need (as
described in the definition) the spanking act to fulfill any sexual
gratification; it just makes everything better.

Minelle: I do not think it is always a Fetish. For some it may be needed to
complete their sexual needs. For others it is needed in one form or
another to complete their sense of SELF.
i.e. giving, receiving, reading or writing about, drawing, visualizing,
fantasizing, etc.

Michael M: Nope - not a fetish. It's a psychophysiological aphrodisiac or maybe a fixation. Whatever it is it's fun.

Dr. Ken: Trying to define something is a great way to make it lose its appeal.
Spanking is a consensual fun activity between adults--let's just leave
it at that!

Simon: Whilst it may not fit the specific definition of a fetish I think it is
definitely one. Certainly for me as I find spanking or being spanked
sexually gratifying whether used as a means to an end i.e. sex or in
its own right. If you don't define it as a fetish you are left with the
word perversion which is a much more judgemental word and carries
negative overtones.

Leigh: I don't this it's any more of a fetish than cunnilingus or fellatio.
It's something that is pleasing to some and not to others - that doesn't
make it a fetish.

Bonnie: If we follow the definition above, spanking is not an "object or item of
clothing or part of the body." Our spankings are not a prerequisite
for sexual gratification, but rather another form of sex.

As for
the possibility that spankings might "interfere with complete sexual
expression," that certainly hasn't been true for Randy and me. We have
explored corners of our sexuality that we didn't even realize might be
of interest to us.

And if we're "abnormal," so be it. I am convinced that our lives would be a lot less enjoyable if he didn't spank me.

My answer is no.

kdpierre: "Is spanking a fetish?" For whom? I'm sure it is for some. For
others it is merely spice. To others still, it satisfies a deep desire
but is not essential for gratification but is perhaps essential to
emotional balance. For the rest, it's a quirk other people have, and
something to snicker about.

The word "fetish" is misused often.
While the definition you listed is accurate, "through common usage"
'fetish' has come to mean a preference. (e.g. a person who likes feet
.....though doesn't necessarily NEED feet for full sexual fulfillment is
still said to have a 'foot fetish'. This misuse happens all of the
time.

Anon: No, spanking is a consensual happening between two adults to enhance their sex lives. The only fetish element is that curvaceous bottom, which thankfully our ladies have been endowed with, and just begs to be spanked.

Blondie: On FetLife, it is categorized as a fetish. I guess it is except there
are spankee people who can also get off without a spanking. I like the
term, but I also know that I can get off just with vanilla love making. I
just prefer spankings.

Ronnie: I think some would class it as a fetish but It's not in the manner of
the definition and most spankos do not need spanking for sexual
gratification. So for me spanking it not a fetish.

Hermione: This really is a matter of examining all the words in the definition which, as Dr. Ken said, spoils the fun of spanking. Spanking is not strictly a fetish since it isn't an object or body part. A person might have a bum fetish without the slightest desire to spank it. Nor do I think that having a fixation necessarily interferes with sexual fulfilment.

Having said that, I do think that for me, spanking is a fetish. The only way I achieve sexual gratification is by fantasizing about spanking and replaying spanking scenes in my mind. Even during vanilla sex, those videos need to be played and replayed in my mind, or else nothing happens. The physical act of being spanked arouses me, and is an excellent form of foreplay.

Well, that was an interesting discussion! Thank you all for expressing your opinions.

Sunday, August 14, 2016

Welcome, one and all, to another enjoyable weekend spanko brunch. You are among friends here, so don't be afraid to speak your mind.

This week I heard the phrase "spanking fetish" used in a conversation on a television program, so I decided that it would make a good topic for today's discussion. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines a fetish as "an object or bodily part whose real or fantasied presence is psychologically necessary for sexual gratification and that is an object of fixation to the extent that it may interfere with complete sexual expression". Vocabulary.com defines it as "a form of sexual desire in which gratification depends to an abnormal degree on some object or item of clothing or part of the body".

Do you think spanking is a fetish?

Leave your response as a comment, and I will publish a summary of our discussion once everyone has had a chance to speak.

Saturday, August 13, 2016

kdpierre: Him: "I envision a future, perhaps in the Colonies, where men can be free."Her:
"Men can be free? Men can be free! Give me that pen! I
envision a future where women are in control...and
there's toilet paper. Yes, definitely toilet paper."

Simon: The Marquis was trying to think of a name for the activities described in his book. Somehow Alphonsism didn't seem quite right.

Leigh: "Our morning escapades allow me to get smoothly through the day, dear. They help me find the words.

Anon: "I think I shall write a letter to my mother, asking her to spend the summer with us.""Oh dear, let me write it for you. I'll convince her to brave the horrors and discomfort of travel."

Baxter: I told you to write down a list of things you should be spanked for and
there you are day dreaming. Well time is up! Get up, strip naked and go
stand in the corner while I retrieve the hairbrush and tawse. Maybe you
will learn a lesson.

Sir Wendel: That is quite enough work for one day dear. Time to declare your belt on my very naughty bottom so I can proclaim out loud.

Ronnie: Reginald was thinking back on the delights of last night when he had his wife naked over his desk.

Vfrat25000: (Him) Too bad there is no such thing as a cheerleader in the colonial times.(Her) Who says there isn’t darling? Fight…Fight…Win!!! Want me to do a handstand?

Great, I am “three sheets to wind” drunk and she wants to play!

Who put this poison ivy in my pocket?

Come on you old goat! Give me that Viagra Feather. Its time to get this ship sailing!

Great, I’m horny and the old fart is sound asleep with his eyes open. That is so creepy!

Sir
Charles, I have my “The Queen is so fat her cereal bowl needs a
lifeguard!” panties on. You know that is a criminal offense. I must be
punished..Right?

Hermione: If you think you can give me a good spanking with that feather, my dear, you are very much mistaken.

For more good conversation, please join me for brunch, coming up next.